


Slumber Party

by Pineprin137



Series: Wincest Codas [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...with a side of, Achy, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Coda, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Cuddling, Dean's a cuddle bunny when he's sick, Episode: s09e04 Slumber Party, Fever, Fluff, Game of Thrones References, Influenza, Sassy Sam Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester, Sneezing, Sweet Sam Winchester, Well - Freeform, just the book itself, not the characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: "Woah woah spoilers-- I haven't read all the books yet.""You're going to read the books?""Yes, Dean. I like to read books. You know, the ones without pictures..."
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Wincest Codas [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671544
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so before y'all get into a snit fit about how this isn't Wincest, I know. It's not actual Wincest, but there's enough brotherly fluff that it could be. And I really just wanted to write a sick fic and maybe all of sudden Sam was reading George R Martin and then I thought of Slumber Party--
> 
> *Sigh* Just--go with it. 'kay? It's been a long week.

Sam looked up from his book to the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven, which meant he’d been peacefully reading for three hours. Three hours of no mutterings coming from the kitchen or loud rock music blaring from Baby’s speakers. Three hours of no Dean interruptions… 

Heaving himself up from the only chair large enough for a six-foot-four man to curl up in, he walked down the hall to his brother’s room. The door was shut, but not latched. When Sam nudged it open, he found Dean  _ still in bed… asleep _ . 

His forehead creased. Had he missed something? Did something happen that would’ve caused Dean’s special brand of night terrors? Sam dismissed that thought almost immediately-- there was no way Dean could’ve been having nightmares without him knowing about it. When they weren’t sleeping next to each other in a motel room, they were here at the bunker surrounded by empty hallways that amplified every little noise. If Dean was screaming in the middle of the night, he would’ve heard it. 

Sam was just about to chalk it up to not getting enough sleep over the past few weeks when Dean suddenly sneezed. It wasn’t more than a scrunching of his nose and a quick puff of air, but it was enough for the pieces to fall into place. Dean claiming he ‘forgot’ to grab his light jacket instead of his winter coat, him going inside to pay while Sam filled the Impala, the sticky residue on the counter that Sam stuck his hand in while brushing his teeth… Dean was sick. And in true Dean Winchester fashion, he had decided to try to hide it from Sam. 

_“Idiot…”_ Sam grumbled under his breath as he approached his brother’s sleeping form. This close, he could make out the sweat clinging to Dean’s temples. Shivering beneath the thin sheet, he sniffled then adjusted to try to find a more comfortable position. 

Sam rolled his eyes. Leave it to Dean to try to handle it all by himself. Never mind the fact that nobody--not even Dean himself-- knew how to take care of him better than Sam. Because it isn’t like he’s been doing it his whole life or anything! 

He stopped in the bathroom to grab a few supplies then again, at the hall closet to get an extra blanket. He shook it out so it would cover Dean’s entire body then placed the box of tissues and bottle of cold medicine on his nightstand. 

Sam stood at the door for a few minutes monitoring his congested breathing then ventured out to the library to pick up his book. He debated staying out there but in the end, he chose to settle down in his room so he would be able to hear when Dean finally woke up. 


	2. Chapter 2

As he snorted awake, Dean realized two things. One, he felt a lot warmer than he did when he crawled into his bed to sleep off whatever bug he’d caught. And two, what he had thought was a cold definitely seemed to be leaning more towards the flu now. 

Groaning, he burrowed deeper into the blanket in an attempt to avoid consciousness. God, he felt like he’d been run over by a Mack truck. Everything hurt. His nose was all stuffed up. His head felt like it was going to explode and it seemed like all his energy had been zapped even though he’d just slept for-- Dean reached for his phone-- eleven hours. Oh, boy. Sammy was gonna be pissed. 

Speak of the devil… 

“You going to stay in there all day? It’s almost four, now.” 

Dean winced when he rolled over to reluctantly face his brother. “Haven’t decided yet.” 

“Did you at least take something before you crawled in here to die?” 

So dramatic. Dean rolled his eyes, regretted it instantly. “ ‘m not  _ dying _ …” 

Sam snorted. “Could’ a fooled me.” 

He placed his feet to the floor, a shiver raking his body when his bare soles touched ice-cold concrete. He didn’t let himself flinch though. Sam would take too much pleasure in being proved right. 

He accepted the pair of socks that were chucked at him, slipped them on his feet then sat on the edge of the bed, sniffling miserably as he tried to appease the tickle in his nose. 

“You should take some cold medicine. It’ll help,” Sam said, standing a few feet away, keeping a close eye on him. 

“I’m fine,” Dean mumbled, rubbing under his twitching nose. “It’s just a-a-a-  _ ACHOO!”  _

Sam stepped back as he sneezed into the open air. “Oh, gross! Dean, man, cover your mouth.” He wiped imaginary debris off his sleeve. 

Dean yawned widely, blinked at him. “Don’t have to. It’s my room.” 

“Ugh, whatever. Just-- keep your germs to yourself, ‘kay? If you need me, I’ll be in  _ my  _ room.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was just getting to the good part when a rumpled mess appeared in his doorway. He sighed. “Dean. what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting…” he said, setting his book on the nightstand. 

Dean shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as he said, “I tried, but I can’t…  _ sleep _ .” He gave a frustrated huff before crossing his arms over his chest. He was shivering again. 

Sam only lasted a minute. “Come on…” 

Dean raised his head to frown. “What?” 

“Get in,” Sam said, holding up the blankets. “Before I change my mind…” 

Dean didn’t move right away, but when he finally slid into the bed beside Sam, he immediately snuggled up against him. 

“Never pegged you for a cuddler,” Sam chuckled, draping his arm over Dean’s back. 

“...shut up, bitch. ’m sick.” 

Sam rolled his eyes as he picked his book back up. They both had a tendency to get needy when they were ailing, but Dean more so than Sam. He acted so tough, put on a brave face all the time-- when he got sick, the bravado melted away, the swagger disappeared, and all that was left was a little boy who didn’t feel well and wanted to be comforted. 

For the rest of the evening, Sam worked his way through seven chapters of A Clash of Kings, absently stroking Dean’s sweaty hair as he snuffled softly in his sleep. 


End file.
